


Hetalia:Keytalia

by Bluepaws2011



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-06-08 16:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15247044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluepaws2011/pseuds/Bluepaws2011
Summary: Basically, the nations are competing in a contest. Have fun watching them attempt to work together to win, only to have everything they have worked so hard for shatter. Also, some of the nations have disappeared, have fun watching the other nations panic as they struggle to find them.





	1. Invitation Given

‘Finally!’ America thought as the Allies meeting was wrapping up. Of course, during said meeting, nothing had really gotten done, like per usual. They were supposed to talk about economy, or something, America hadn’t been paying close attention. He was more excited about his plan. 

‘But hey, now the fun can start.’ America though excitedly, a smirk spreading across his lips. 

“Hey guys before we split, I have something to tell you.”

“Well? what is it?” England asked. Tone tired and brows furrowed as he rubbed his temples with his pointer and middle fingers. 

“Yes, Please do tell, Aru.” China chimed in a moment later. 

“Well, I have been creating a strength contest, I just finished, and I wanted all of you guys to participate in it with me. You know to see who the strongest nation is mentally, physically, and emotionally.

“When is this contest, da?” Russia inquired. He was always one to try and beat America. 

“Tonight and all day tomorrow.” America replied, his sky blue sparkling in childlike excitement. 

“B-but what about work!?” England stuttered.

“Oh yeah, well…” America sheepishly smiled, black-gloved hand scratching the back of his head. 

“Well, what?” Canada asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Well, I kind of sent a letter to…” America started, chuckling nervously. 

“To whom, Aru?”

“Toallthebossesoftheworld, Buttheyallthoughtitwasagreatidea,soyouguysareoffthehookfortonightandtomorrow.” America finished quickly, practically spitting out his words. 

“And you didn’t think to ask us first!? Bloody git.” England muttered.

“Well imagine if your bosses had said no.” America pouted. Crossing his arms and puffing his checks. 

“Anyhow, who’s coming?” He continued, completely forgetting to keep up his pout. 

“I’ll come,” Canada answered. “But I have to go home first for a change of clothes.”

“Sweet, thanks Canadia.” America held out his hand for a high five, Canada slowly high fives it back, his features filled with worry.

“Who else?”

“Wait, will there be a hotel at your place? So that we don’t have to travel back and forth between our place and yours?” Inquired Russia, a slight tilt of his head, showcasing his confusion.

“If you guys come, you will get the best place to stay at, all prepped and paid for already.”

“You really want us to come, don’t you?” England was slightly impressed, though he was sure to keep it under tight wraps. No need to show the other nations that he was capable of human emotion. He had a reputation after all. 

“I’ll go,” Russia volunteered. “I am curious to know who the strongest nation is.”

China chimed in. “Me too, aru. I’m going as well.”

“Looks like it’s only you and me, Angleterre, who haven’t decided to go.”

England glared at France, clearly giving him the look of so what, Frog?

“Well, I believe it would be fun to go, so count me in, America.”

“Great.” America grinned. “What about you, England?”

Everybody glanced in England’s direction. Upon feeling the pressure England huffed “Alright, fine, I-I’ll go.”

“Yeah.”

“What time are we supposed to be are your house, America?” Canada asked.

“Five.” America replied.

And with the meeting being over and the invitation given, all of the nations went home to prepare for the strength contest.  
____________________________________________________________________________

“Dude, welcome.” America greeted England.

“So, where is the hotel?”

“Oh, follow me.”

With that America turned on his heel and headed into the house.

“Ummm…”

“Come on, England.” America’s cheerful voice echoed throughout the house. Upon taking a deep breath England entered the house. The first thing he noticed was that America’s place was spotless. Nothing was out of place, the sky blue sofa had all of its tossed pillows and the chairs in the dining room were all in order. Not one of them overturned.

“England!” America poked his head out from around a corner. “Are you coming or not, dude?”

“Yes.” England picked up his travel bag and followed America through the maze-like hallways. Upon entering the back of the house, America pointed to one of the doors. There was a British flag painted on the bottom half of the wooden panel with another flag above that England couldn’t quite place at the moment. 

“And this is the room of which you will be staying in, England.” America grinned, white teeth gleaming. 

“America you can’t be serious. This is one of your guest bedrooms.” England huffed, tone dull and filled with expersation. 

“So?”

“So I thought we were staying at a hotel!”

“Oh, sorry dude,” America shrugged. “I thought this would be easier and more fun.”

Slap! England facepalmed. Why? Was the one word racing through his mind.

Ding Dong.

“Oh, that’s the bell, be right back.” America yelled over his shoulder as he raced through the house to answer the door. England sighed, picked up his bag and entered the room.  
____________________________________________________________________________

“Geez, how big is this house?” England muttered to himself as he yet again took a wrong turn. After stumbling around the house for quite a while England managed to find the living room where most everyone was waiting.

“Dude, England there you are.”

“Thanks for never coming back for me!” England said, his face twisting in anger, flushed red.

“Sorry, I thought you knew the way.”

“Well, I didn’t!”

“Ohohoh, what do we have here?” France asked as he slipped into the room unnoticed.

“Nothing, Frog.”

“Oh come on Angleterre, what was it?”

“NOTHING.”

“Hey guys!” America yelled, effectively distracting France and England from their argument. “It’s time to play video games!”

“How is that part of the strength contest, Aru?” China wondered. Long red silk sleeves easily covering his entire hands.

“It’s not.” America answered nonchalantly.

“Then why are we doing it, da?” Inquired Russia, head tilted to the side, confusion clear.

“Well…”

“Well, what?” England snapped.

“Well, I didn’t know when everyone was going to make it. So the actual contest starts tomorrow-!”

“So why are we here now? Instead of tomorrow, da?” Russia smiled, sending the creepy vibes all throughout the entire room and sending shivers down everyone’s spines. 

“Like I said I didn’t know when everyone would be here, so I figured if everyone spent the night, then we wouldn’t have to wait for anybody to start the contest.

“Oh, that makes sense.” Canada whispered. So no surprise that nobody heard him. The conversation continuing as if he had said nothing. 

“But why video games?” Asked a grumpy England, scowl ever present and arms crossed squarely over his chest. 

“Because to burn time, it’s only 6:00 and I’m not ready to go to bed yet!” America whined, sounding like just a child.

Ding Dong.

I’ll be right back.” America scrambled to the door.

Spain? Romano? What are you guys doing here!?” Everyone in the living room heard America exclaim.

“Well,” Spain cheekily smiled. “France mentioned a strength contest at your place. So we thought it would be fun to join in. Right, Romano?” Spain turned to his Italian friend.

“Don’t you dare drag me into this, Tomato Bastard!” Romano shouted, then pouted and crossed his arms as well as puffing out his cheeks as he does when he's annoyed. 

“Well come on in, everyone is in the living room.” America lead the way to the other nations. As soon as America, Spain, and Romano made it to the living room, the doorbell went off again, Ding Dong.

‘Huh, I wonder who that could be.’ America thought as he raced back to the front door.

“Belarus? Ukraine? What are you doing here?” Asked a very confused America.

“Big brother mentioned he was going to your house, so here we are.” Belarus supplied.

“Ah, o-okay.” America said and he stepped aside so that the girls could enter.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Belarus said while turning toward America. “If you so much as touch my brother, I will murder you in your sleep, got it?” Belarus held up her butcher’s knife to make sure America understood her. America paled and nodded his head before following the girls inside. For the next two hours, America keep scrambling between the front door and the living room, letting more and more nations inside.

“America.” Said nation turned around to face England.

“WHAT_THE_BLOODY_HELL!? Why did you invite so many people?”

“Umm, England, I hate to break this to you, but ah…I only invited the allies to this.” America shrugged sheepishly. 

“So, you're saying that everyone else…” England gestured to all the other guests gathered and cramped in the living room and other various parts of the house. “Just came on their own?”

“Yes.”

‘Wow,’ England thought. ‘What a mess.’

“But it’s not my fault, England.” America whined. “For each person that came they mentioned that someone told them about it or blackmailed them into going. So several people spilled the beans… Who did you tell?” America asked crossing his arms. An uncharacteristic deep frown set in America’s young face. 

“Fine, I did tell some people about it, but I didn’t expect them to follow me here. Bloody wankers.”

“Who was it?”

“Sigh, It was my older brothers: Scotland, Northern Ireland, Wales and our cousin Ireland…”

“That’s not too bad.”

“But that’s not all of whom I told.”

“Oh…”

“I also told Australia and Sealand, and I will bet you my tea that Australia told New Zealand and Wy about it and that Sealand told Sweden and Finland, who in turn told the other Nordics about it.”

‘Whoa,’ America thought. ‘If everyone just told one other nation about it. No wonder there are so many nations here. Geez.’

Just looking around the living room America could spy so many nations, and that was just the living room, there was still the rest of the house to look at.  
____________________________________________________________________________

America wandered around the crowded house looking for someone to hang out with. While trying to get through an especially crowded part of the house, America accidentally bumped into Romano.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" Romano shouted, then muttered, "Man, this house is too damn crowded."

America then asked, "Well, if you think it's too crowded Romano, would you like to go outside?"

"And why the frick would I want to do that? It's snowing out." Romano pouted. America then countered. "But, Dude, if it's snowing than the pond gonna be frozen."

"Really?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go." Romano said as he grabbed Alfred's arm and began pulling him toward the door. Romano and America quickly put on their coats... After locating them in the mess of coats by the front door. Then they were off, walking the little ways to the pond in the lightly falling snow. A sigh escaped Romano's lips as well as a little puff of dragon's breath. You know when it's so cold one can see their breath. Anyhow Romano was caught in the moment, admiring how the moonlight caused the snow to sparkle and the crystal-blue iced-over pond to shimmer. Till America interrupted.

"So, Dude, what do you say we get on the ice?"

"Will be able to hold our weight?"

"Of course it will, watch!" America said, then proceeded to step onto the ice only to slip on the slick substance and in a vain attempt to stay standing America grabbed the front of Romano's coat. Unfortunately, that only helped in America dragging Romano down with him and not Romano keeping him up.

"What_the_HELL!? Why would you do that!?" Romano shouted from his position on the ground.

"To keep from falling obviously." America replied.

"Next time just fall. Don't drag others down with you." Romano pouted and then tried to push against America an attempt to stand up. This only resulted with Romano sliding across the ice and stopping close to the center of the pond.

"DAMN IT!" Romano nearly screamed. He wanted to get off the ice, but since there was a thin layer of water over it that had soaked through the front of his clothes. So now he was cold, wet and America wasn't helping matters by laughing at the edge of the pond. Half of him grounded in the snow, the other on the thick ice. Nothing could wipe that smirk off of America's face, not even Romano's death glares from across the ice. Though both of their eyes widened and America's smirk slipped right off his face. When they heard the unmistakable sound of cracking ice. And much to America's and Romano's horror, before either could utter a word. The ice underneath Romano shifted and he slipped into the icy water with a small splash before resurfacing, gasping for air and clinging to the edge of the ice in an effort to keep his head above the water.

"Romano!" America hollered, shocked and scared. He then made a move to get closer to his friend. But Romano interrupted his movement by saying "D-don't c-c-come any c-closer ."

America paused. "But why?"

"If y-you f-fall in w-while r-rescuing me t-then we're b-b-both screwed. G-go g-get h-h-help d-damn it." Romano spoke thought chattering teeth. America was at a loss for what to do. He could listen to Romano and get help, But America didn't know how long Romano could stand being in the icy water while he went and got help. On the other hand, Romano was right if America tried to rescue him himself and he ended up falling in as well, well then they would both be in serious trouble. If America goes to get help, turn to Chapter 2-Ice. If America goes to rescue Romano, turn to Chapter 3-Chains.


	2. Ice

America paused a second longer, then taking heed of Romano's advice. He started sprinting toward the house screaming. "Russia, Germany!" Romano watched his friend sprint away. Relief washed over him.

'Well, at least one of us is getting out of this with minimal damage. Damn, it's cold, fricken hurry up, America.' Romano thought as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Sleep pulled at him, cooing him to let go. But Romano refused the cooing and temptation, for he knew if he gave in, he might not wake up again. Meanwhile, America just reached the front door. Still screaming his head off for Russia and Germany, he flung the door open and started scurrying through the crowd. He bumped into several people on his wild quest to find Russia and Germany, but he didn't even bother to apologize, Romano was way more important than being polite. About halfway through the crowd, America spotted his targets.

"Russia, Germany." America puffed as he scurried over to them. America then took a second to catch his breath as Germany asked. "What do you need, America?"

"I need both you and Russia to get your coats on and met me by the front door." America wheezed out.

"Alright, but why?" The German asked.

"Please just do it. I'll meet you there in a sec, I need to grab something really fast." America pleaded before swiftly taking his leave, leaving Russia and Germany to follow his request. A few minutes later America returned with some rope in his hand.

"Let's go." He said. Before rushing out the door and practically dragging Russia and Germany behind him. Once they arrived at the pond, America started furiously tying the rope around his waist and handing the other end to the Russian and German with the instructions of "Hold on to this, when I grab Romano pull us out, k?"

Both gave a nod. America then launched himself across the ice, closing the gap between himself and his shivering, sleepy friend. "Romano!" America shouted as he drew nearer. Romano's unfocused eyes raised a little.

"A-a-a-America? He muttered. Wondering if he was real or not.

"Dude, I'm right here." America was now right beside him. "We're gonna get you out of this."

He then plunged his arms into the icy water, before encircling them around Romano's torso.

"Okay, pull us out!" America yelled back to Russia and Germany. He knew that his request/command was being taken care of when he heard the sound of grunting and he felt the rope pull taunt against his body. Then slowly inch by inch he felt himself and Romano move across the ice to the safely of the snow packed ground. Once there, America released Romano who promptly curled up into a little ball in an attempt to regain some of the body heat that he lost. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Romano was stuck in his little ball, shivering and shaking. America was slightly better off. Though he was starting to shiver, due to the water he got on his clothes starting to soak through.

"Let's get you warmed up, da?" Russia stated. He then grabbed America's arm and hauled him to his feet, before he started to undo the rope that was encircled around his friend's waist. Once undone, the rope fell limp against the ground. With the rope out of the way of impeding any walking, Russia put his hand on America's back and he began to guide him back to the warm house. All while that was happening, Germany was left to check on Romano. Germany knelt down beside his lover's brother and shook his shoulder.

"Can you stand?" The question hung in the air a minute, before dissolving into the wind. Yet the answer never parted from Romano's lips. He simply continued to stay curled up in his tiny ball, shivering. Germany pinched the bridge of his nose and signed. As much as Germany disliked Romano, now was not the time to hold grudges. Upon realizing that the frozen nation couldn't get up and stand on his own. Germany sighed again, then he bent down, scooped Romano up bridal style and proceed to follow America and Russia to the warm welcoming arms of the house. Once inside Russia turned to America and said.

"Let's get you into some dry clothes, da?"

America simply nodded, rubbed his arms and headed off to his room to change. One could tell that it was America's room due to the American flag that took up half the door. Germany stood by the door, wondering what he should do. He could attempt to find Romano's room and get him into some dry clothes. Though the only problem was that Germany had no idea where Romano's room was, or most accurately, he didn't know where the room was that Romano was staying in was at. Then it hit him. If he found Italy, then Italy could take him to his room and change him. Germany glanced at the crowded room before him, willing himself to locate the auburn locks that would be his key out of this...uncomfortable situation. Though truth be told, before Germany spotted Italy, Italy spotted him.

"Eh!? Germany, what are you doing over there? Weren't you just with Ru-!?" Italy stopped dead in his tracks, then he rushed over to his lover once he saw his brother's limp form.

"VE!? WHAT HAPPENED!?" Italy nearly shouted as he stood in front of Germany, looking over his brother. Italy then glanced at Germany with his pleading golden brown eyes when said nation didn't answer him right away. Germany sighed before saying.

"He fell into the pond. But now we need to get him into some dry clothes. Do you know where his room is?"

Italy's eyes lit up. "Of course I do."

With that the small Italian pushed the larger nation out of the room and into the maze like hallways.  
____________________________________________________________________________

On the other side of the house Russia waited patiently by the door outside of America's room. Said nation was currently changing into a dry pair of warm pjs. Once done, the American left the room and bumped into the Russian waiting outside. Literally bumped into him. Russia was completely unfazed by the encounter, but America on the other hand lost his balance for a moment, before regaining it and attempting to apologize to the huge Russian.

"D-dude, s-sorry Russia."

"Nyet, think nothing of it comrade."

"B-but-"

Nyet, I said it was fine."

America opened his mouth to say something, but Russia sent him a creepy smile, effectively silencing him, before continuing. "Are you still cold, America?"

"O-only a little bit."

"Here." Russia then produced a warm wooly blanket seemly out of nowhere and proceed to tightly wrap America in said blanket.

"U-umm, dude?"

"Da?"

"I can't move."

"That is the point comrade."

"How?"

"If your wrapped up nice and tight, then any heat you gain will stay contained in the blanket and you will stay warm, da? "

America nodded. Now understanding.

"Let's get you in front of the fire now."

America nodded, before voicing. "How?"  
As he continued to shiver in the drafty hallway.

"Like this, da?" Russia said before lunging forward, sweeping America off his feet and slinging him over his shoulder.

"WHOA! DUDE! WHAT_ARE_YOU_DOING!?"

"Taking you to the fireplace." Russia answered matter of factly.

America pouted 'Fine.' He thought.

____________________________________________________________________________

A few hallways away Italy and Germany were having quite a time attempting to get Romano into some dry clothes. You see the problem was that Romano was having none of it. He just wanted to stay curled up in his little ball, and changing meant moving. So he was like nope, not doing it. Eventually, Italy and Germany used Germany's strength to get Romano out of his little ball, and then Italy would almost rip the article of clothing off, before then replacing it by shoving Romano into some dry pjs. After they were done Germany released the Italian and said Italian promptly curled up again. Though he did feel slightly better due to now being in dry, warm pjs. Then Romano felt himself being lifted up again and then wrapped snugly in a big fluffy blanket. Next thing he knew was that they were moving. Romano wanted to yell and scream at the duo to put him down. But he was too weak and damn, the potato bastard was warm. Germany and Italy took Romano to the fireplace where they laid him next to America on the big soft couch that stood in front of the crackling fire.

Germany glanced over to his lover and noticed him hovering over Romano. He leaned in and whispered, "Hey Italy, I believe it would be best if we leave so that Romano can get some rest." Italy gave a tiny nod before straightening and glancing at the German with watery eyes.

"Ve, yeah, let's go." He whispered. Italy was about to take a step toward his companion. When the door opened and Seborga and Kugelmugel stepped through the threshold. Kugelmugel was going on and on about all the different art they had seen. Seborga quietly listening as they walked.

"Ve, Hola Seborga. How are you?"

"Good. What are you up to?"

Italy's smile slipped and he just stared uncomfortably at Seborga, unsure how to answer. Seborga noticed this change in demeanor and tried to lighten the mood by joking. "What? Did someone almost die or something?"

When Italy's expression didn't change Seborga knew he hit the nail on the head. He instantly felt guilty and the smile that had played across his lips, slipped and vanished from view.

"Who?" Seborga whispered.

"Fratello." Italy managed to choke out. Seborga stared blankly for a moment before he slowly walked up, almost zombie-like, to see the damage. His older brother might be a little rough around the edges, but Seborga couldn't imagine a life without his older brothers.

"W-what happened?" Seborga asked even though it felt like his throat was closing up. When only silence greeted his question Seborga looked over to the middle child of their family. What he saw shocked him. Italy's eyes were open and void of all emotion. The few times that Seborga had seen Italy's eyes open, they were always sparkling and full of life. It was freaking him out dull they were. Then Seborga glanced over to Germany when his brother remained silent. The German signed and then explained that Romano had fallen through the ice and that leaving him alone and letting him sleep in front of the fire was probably the best thing they could do for him right now.

Both brothers nodded and they both made a move to leave their oldest brother's side. When they felt their shirts pull taut against their bodies, preventing them from going any farther. Confused they looked down, first Seborga and then Italy. Apparently while Germany was explaining the situation, Romano had managed to free one of his hands from its fluffy confinement and now said hand was white-knuckle clutching his brothers' shirt material. Also when either one of them tried to move away Romano would only grasp the shirts tighter, and mutter "no" over and over again in his sleep like state and would have a frown etched across his face. Italy signed almost happily before adjusting Romano so that he could sit on the soft couch too. After a moment of hesitation Seborga joined the Vargas Brother's bundle. It took a minute for all of them to get adjusted, but it was worth it. Now they were all ready to spend the night together on the couch in front of the crackling fire. During this entire exchange Germany had made sure that Kugelmugel was alright and kept him quiet so the Vargas brothers could adjust to the situation. But now Germany needed to ruin the moment to ask a question.

"Italy," Germany whispered, getting the attention of said nation. "Would you like Kugelmugel and me to stay or would you rather that we..." Germany trailed off. Italy looked at him dead in the eyes and opened his mouth to reply. If Italy tells them to go, then turn to Chapter 4. If Italy asks them to stay, then turn to Chapter 5.


	3. Chains

America paused for a second longer before getting down on his stomach and beginning to carefully slide toward Romano, despite his protests and insults. "A-America, WHAT_THE_HELL_ARE_YOU_DOING!?"

"Rescuing you of course. I'm the hero and that's what heroes do!"

"B-but your gonna screw us both over." Romano once again protested.

America simply laughed at this and continued to inch his way across the ice.

Romano huffed. "J-just so you k-k-know, i-i-if you f-fall in and w-we both d-d-die, I'm b-b-blaming y-y-you."

"Duly noted." America replied while still giggling. "But come in dude, I'm the hero. So trust me, alright?"

No sooner had the words left America's mouth when the ice underneath him cracked, effectively sending him tumbling into the icy water below. America then pop up close to where Romano was currently clinging to the edge of the ice.

"S-see I-I f-f-frickin told y-you!"

America didn't really pay attention to Romano's ranting. Already his mind and body were slowing down due to being exposed to the treacherously cold water.

'Damn, I goofed up bad. And if I don't think of something fast...' America didn't dare finish that thought. He got them into this mess and now he was going to get them right back out. America turned his head to glance at Romano, who was panting slightly and about to glare right back at him. When he lost his grip and slipped into the dark clutches of the pond. America lost no time in diving after him. The cold clawed at him, once again slowing him down. But America kept pushing. He was not about to lose one of his friends, nope not on his watch.

America quickly caught up to the sinking Italian. He then hooked his arms around Romano and then using his powerful legs, America started swimming toward the surface. In less then a minute they broke through the water's glass like complexion. America gasping for air and Romano attempting to dislodge the water in his system. America flailed for a second before reaching out and getting a firm grip on the ice. One arm clinging to the edge of the ice for all it was worth and the other held Romano close so that he couldn't fall again. America then did the only thing that he could think of to do: scream. America began screaming bloody murder. In hopes that it would get them the help that they so desperately needed.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP US! P-PLEASE!"  
____________________________________________________________________________

Back at the house Spain tilted his head ever so slightly to the left. He thought he had heard...screaming. Faint screaming but screaming nonetheless. Belgium who had been talking to him noticed the slight tilt and asked him what was wrong.

"Nothing." He smiled. "I just thought that I had heard something."

"What did you think you heard?" Belgium pressed. Spain looked down embarrassed.

"Screaming."

Belgium paused a minute, not sure how to react to that piece of information. Spain felt his face heat up a bit more and he wished that he could just gobble up that one word he just uttered. Then Belgium's eyes lit up.

"I heard it too, it's not a part of your imagination." Belgium smiled. "Come on, Let's go see what's going on."

Spain perked up at this and he followed Belgium through the house. As they got closer to the front of the house they heard the screaming get louder and more urgent. At this both Belgium and Spain broke into a run until they hit the pond. Belgium gasped and Spain swore. Romano looked lifeless in the water, only being held up by America. America was keeping both of them afloat and he was rapidly losing his voice. It was raspy and hoarse from all of his screaming.

"B-Belgium?...S-S-Spain?" America croaked out.

"Yes, we're here." Belgium answered. Then Spain added. "Hang on. We'll be right back. We need to grab some help."

America gave a crud nod to show that he understood. Then Spain grabbed Belgium's hand and they raced back to the house together. Once there they grabbed the first people they saw. Belgium grabbed her older brother Netherlands and dragged him outside without so much as an explanation as to what was going on, and Spain had grabbed Luxembourg and had shoved him out the door, much like how Belgium had taken her older brother out the door.

Luxembourg had tried to ask what was going on, but one glare from Spain had shut him right up. Because first off Spain rarely ever glared and second it was a terrifying glare. Belgium on the other hand had better luck with Netherlands since he figured that if he needed to know then he would be told. So he didn't bother wasting his breath on a question that wouldn't get answered. Both groups arrived at the pond one right after another. Once there both Netherlands and Luxembourg both understood why they were there. They could help with the rescue since they were both fairly strong.

"How do we get them out?" Belgium voiced.

"We could tie our jackets together to make a makeshift rope." Luxembourg suggested.

"But how would America grab it? His hands are a bit full with him clinging to the ice and holding Romano." Spain argued. 

It was then suggested that they could make a loop at the end of the jacket rope that could be easily slipped over America's and Romano's forms. Unfortunately, Spain reasoned again that they couldn't do that since then the makeshift rope of jackets would be too short and it wouldn't reach them. With the rope jacket idea shoot down, the group glanced at each other, unsure what to do. Well whatever they decided to do they would have to do it quickly since America had gone silent and that couldn't be good.

"We could make a human chain." Spain blurted out. 

The other nodded, it may not be the best idea in the universe, but right now it was the best idea they had. Spain then directed them into the order that they needed to be in. Netherlands would act as the anchor and be the connection they needed to the frozen solid ground. Both Belgium and Luxembourg would act as the middle links in the chains and Spain would act as the hook on the end.

Quickly they got into formation and they started to trend on the treacherous ice. They didn't get that far before they noticed their fatal flaw. Their chain was not nearly as long as they needed it to be. Thankfully through Netherlands had started the process of fixing the problem. He hooked his foot around the tree he had previously been holding onto and he began to take off his jacket. The others stared at him in confusion.

Wondering WHAT_THE_HELL_HE_WAS_DOING! They got their answer soon enough. Netherlands at this point had managed to wiggle out of his jacket, being mindful of their chain and he always made sure to have one hand clasped around Belgium's wrist to ensure that the chain didn't break. Everybody's eyes lit up when they noticed that Netherlands had wrapped his jacket around the tree and now the group had a few more inches to work with. Quickly following suit the others practically, but very carefully ripped off their jackets and their chain grew longer and longer.

Now Spain was close enough he could grab America and Romano. He carefully maneuvered over the thin ice. But just as he was about to reach down, the ice underneath him cracked and he landed in the icy water with a small splash. Spain spluttered when his head resurfaced, though it didn't stop him for long. His mission was still clear in his head. He reached out his hand and latched himself onto America, who at that moment had been trending water since the ice he had been holding onto had shattered when Spain had fallen through the ice.

"I got them." Spain yelled when he had a firm grip on his fellow nations. "Pull us out."

Already he could feel their makeshift chain tightening. The three nations in the water made it to the edge of the ice, no problem. When they tried to get on said ice, that's when the problems started happening. You see in order to get the nations on the ice and out of the water, the three nations stationed on the ground had to began really straining themselves to get the frozen nations over the lip of the ice. Unfortunately one of the jackets that they were using to make their chain wasn't built to withstand all of that stress. It began to slowly rip.

Upon hearing the sound America and Spain glanced at each other before looking up at the trio on the ice with wide, terrified eyes. Luxembourg who was closest give the jacket a sharp yank, further ripping it, but also bringing the desired targets closer. With one final tear the jacket ripped into two and Luxembourg having quick reflexives, lunged forward. Effectively ditching the jacket and grabbing Spain's hand. Though now Luxembourg was trending on thin ice and before anyone could take a second to breath, Luxembourg's foot slipped through a crack in the ice, but he was able to yank it out and pull Spain onto the thick ice before he had a chance to fall through. 

Sign, now they were back to square one. Kind of. Well now they had to deal with a soaked Spain and the nations they were trying to rescue were still in the bone-numbing water. The only ray of sunshine in the dark brewing storm was the fact that now the group had physical contact with their targets. Spain and Luxembourg signed in unison. Relief washing over them. They did not, I repeat, did not need another person to fell into the pond. Then quickly before anything else could happen Netherlands gave a hard yank on Belgium's jacket, which sent everyone who was standing to fall and start sliding toward the edge of the pond. Netherlands continued to pull and yank the jacket, first getting Belgium safe and sound by his side.

Now being on the cold snow packed ground, Belgium jumped up and began helping her brother reel in their "friends". First Luxembourg and Spain, then with their combined strength they were able to pull America and Romano out of the water and onto dry, er snowy land. At which point Spain released America and wrapped himself protectively around Romano's limp form. Netherlands being one of the strongest there reached down and hoisted a gawky America up and over his shoulder before heading off to to the house. That left Belgium and Luxembourg with Spain and Romano. Said nations were soaked and the water that clung to their hair and clothes was beginning to crystallize.

Luxembourg leaned closer to Belgium and said. "I'm strong enough to carry Spain to the house. Can you carry Romano?"

The question hung in the air a moment before drifting down toward Spain. Once he heard the question he tightened his grip on his unresponsive lover. They wouldn't be separated. Spain would make sure of that. At this point, Belgium had nodded her head before bending down to gently take Romano from Spain. Spain had no desire to release Romano. So he tightened his hold once again, then he glared at Belgium right in the eyes and he let out a low, menacing growl. Belgium stopped, shocked by the fact that Spain growled at her, Spain growled at her! Belgium looked to her younger brother, he looked just as shocked as she did. Her eyes questioning what they should do.

They could try to get Spain on his feet and guide him to the house. But it looked like he was beginning to nod off. Or they could try to take Romano again and separately take them to the house. But Spain didn't look like he was going to release Romano anytime soon, not while he was conscious at least. If Luxembourg and Belgium just guide Spain to the house turn to Chapter 6-Toys. If Luxembourg and Belgium wait for Spain to dose off before carrying them separately to the house turn to Chapter 7-Leadership Needed.


	4. Pranks

Italy stared at Germany a moment longer, tears threatening to make an appearance.

"No, I believe it would be better if you guys left. I think we just need a minute."

Germany nodded before taking Kugelmugel's hand and exiting the room quietly. Italy then silently yawned before leaning his head against his older brother and drifting off into a fitful sleep in front of the crackling fire. In another area of the house Germany was guiding Kugelmugel through the mess of people. He was attempting to locate Kugelmugel's guardian, Austria. Though their going was at snail's pace since Kugelmugel had to stop at everything that he deemed as art. Eventually Germany spotted Austria's dark hair in the sea of nations. He then picked up Kugelmugel and held him in his arms so that he could hurry them along. Germany then approached the aristocratic nation.

"Well, Hello Germany." Austria greeted. "What brings you over here?"

Germany grunted. "Kugelmugel. I wanted to make sure he was with someone he knew before I left him alone."

"Ahh." Was all Austria said as he took Kugelmugel from Germany and placed him back on the ground. He was about to turn away when he remembered something.

"Oh, Germany?"

"Hmm?"

"You might want to check on your brother."

"Why? He hasn't done something has he?" Germany sighed.

"No, quite the opposite, I haven't heard one peep from him and you know what that usually means." Austria said in disgust.

Germany released a sigh."It means he's probably plotting something big. Thanks for the update. I'll go find him."

Austria nodded at this and turned away with Kugelmugel. Germany sighed once again before heading off into the crowd, looking for the familiar flash of silver that would surrender his brother's location. After combing through the crowd and asking around Germany still hadn't found Prussia. Which was odd since Prussia almost always made his presence known by doing a stupid prank. Confused, Germany sought out Austria once again. Eventually, he found said nation.

"Austria?"

"Yes, Germany?"

"I can't locate Prussia." He confessed.

"What do you mean?" Austria questioned.

"I mean he's gone. I combed the crowd and even asked around, but the last time anyone saw him was about an hour ago."

"Are you sure he didn't just leave?"

Germany grunted. "Yes."

"How?" Austria argued.

"When I was searching for him, I passed by the front door and his jacket was there. If he had left he would have taken his jacket with him." Germany countered.

Austria felt his heart drop. He may not necessarily like the obnoxious nation. But not knowing where he was disconcerting since then they had no idea what Prussia was up to and to Austria, it was terrifying not knowing what Prussia was up to.

Austria sighed. "Do you want me to help you look?"

Germany raised an eyebrow but nodded.

"I just don't want to be pranked by that idiot thank you very much." Austria pouted. And so the search for Prussia resumed. If only they knew what had happened to their fellow nation, they would have been looking in an entirely different part of the house altogether.

Now let's go back in time one hour. The Bad Touch Trio, Spain, France, and Prussia, had previously decided that the first floor was too crowded so they had gone up stairs and had claimed one of the bedrooms as their base of operations. France and Spain had both commandeered the bed. That left Prussia to lounge on the hardwood floor. After he had drained the last of the drink in his hand Prussia stood up.

"Hey, where are you going?" Spain questioned the retreating Prussian.

Said Prussian turned, smiled and said. "Relax, the awesome me just needs another drink."

He then held up his empty cup to empathize his point.

"Alright." Spain then went back to his convention with France. Prussia proceed down the stairs to the crowded first floor. He then skillfully made his way through the sea of people to the drink table. Prussia was about to refill his cup when a container with powder caught his eye. He knew exactly how he wanted prank everybody. Normally he would get his best friends in on his plan, but this was a perfect opportunity to prank them as well. Prussia didn't get many opportunities like this and also he didn't feel like fighting though the crowd again, not yet at least, just to get the other two members of the Bad Touch Trio. Prussia put down his cup and picked up the package of powder and looked at the label.

'Lemonade powder. Perfect.' Then he noticed the second package of powder that had previously been behind the first one. He quickly snatched it up. It was another packet of lemonade powder.

'Doubleday perfect.' Prussia thought. 'And by the look of it I have Watermelon Mint Lemonade and Fizzy Ginger Lemonade. Sweet, this is too awesome.'

Prussia grinned mischievously, 'Let the fun begin.'

While scooting over to the punch bowl, Prussia ripped opened both lemonade packages and emptied their content into the punch bowl. He quickly grabbed the serving spoon and he began to to stir away any evidence of his prank. Then just in case anyone was watching him, Prussia made sure to take some of his concoction. Also he was curious to how it tasted. Prussia then made his way back through the sea of people. Once he made it to the stairs he began to drink the special punch he made while proceeding up the stairs. The sweet liquid coated his throat and once Prussia started drinking it he couldn't stop. Prussia was about halfway through his drink when he made it to the top step. Prussia was about to enter the hallway, when he suddenly felt dizzy.

'Whoa.' He thought. 'What's happening!?’

Then without warning, pain shoot through Prussia's body.

"GAHH!" He yelped. Surprised by the sudden pain. Prussia crumpled, clutching his shoulder and whimpering pathetically.

Spain and France sat on the bed, awaiting the Prussian's return.

"What do you think is taking him so long?" The Spaniard wondered aloud.

The Frenchman shrugged. "He's probably goofing off, but he'll be here in a minute, I'm sure."

No sooner had France put in his two cents when he and Spain heard a pained cry echo throughout the room. Startled by the sudden sound Spain tumbled off the bed and he landed on the floor with a soft thud. Panicked Spain caught France's eye, his expression mirrored his own. Then when they heard glass shattering they were both on their feet and out the door. They made it to the edge of stairs when they saw the shattered remains of the glass. But that was it. No one was there. Confused Spain started down the steps and France started to peek into each of the rooms near the stairs. Spain was about a third of the way down the stairs when he felt something other than the cold wooden steps underneath his foot. Confused and curious Spain lifted his foot and found a card. He reached down and picked it up, examining it closer. It was a four of hearts card.

"Hey France," Spain called. " Look at what I found."

He held up the card. France took a look.

"Hmm..."

"What?" Spain wondered.

"Oh, I was just wondering why the figure on the card reminded me of Prussia."

Spain took a closer look. The figure on the card did have silver hair and ruby red eyes.

Spain shrugged. " Probably due the hair and eyes." Spain slipped the card into his back pocket. "If I see Alfred, I'll give it to him. It's probably his, can't have a full deck without it."

Spain then continued down the stairs. He and France needed to clean up the broken glass before someone stepped in it.

(Line break)

Prussia's eyes fluttered open and he gasped in pain. Two vertical slits down his back burned, as well as a horizontal strip across the edge of his lower back. Not to mention Prussia felt something between his back and the back of his shirt, causing the shirt to pull taut around his body and neck nearly strangling him. Prussia went to grab the front of the outfit to relieve some of the pressure from his throat. But all he heard was a faint click when he tried to move. 

Then he noticed the cold metal around his wrists and neck and the heavy chains connecting them into together. He then tried to move his feet, but they meet a similar feat, bound together by cold metal circlets. Prussia growled, obviously frustrated. He turned his head to the side, hoping to catch sight of someone. Prussia blinked once, then twice. 

But the thick sliver-white fog still surrounded him. Prussia was about to yell out when he felt the ground vibrate. He paused, confused. Then once again he felt the ground vibrant, but a bit more strongly this time. It wasn't long before the ground was shaking uncontrollably, causing Prussia to curse and panic, wondering what the hell was going on. Then without warning a large heavy object landed on Prussia square in the back. Prussia screamed in pain. Then just as quickly as the object had landed, it was lifted off. Prussia signed in relief, until he was picked up a tan hand and held in the palm of said hand. Prussia stayed perfectly still. 

He didn't want to slip and fall through the thick fog onto the unforgiving ground that who knows how far down below him. Prussia felt himself being lifted up for a few moments before he was slipped into the tan hand's back pocket, a dark cave of fabric. With no light leaking through. It was there that Prussia awaited his feat. Spain and France decided that splitting up would be the best course of action. So if one of them found America or the dustpan and broom, they could go clean up the glass shards. Spain looked at all the familiar faces around him. Yet he couldn't seem to locate America or Romano for that matter and it greatly bothered him. Spain searched for a few more minutes before he sighed in frustration.

'Great, I can't seem to find anyone that I need to find.'

But then Spain spotted someone who might be able to help him.

"Hey, England!" Spain yelled across the room.

The blonde nation paused, turned and waited for the brown-haired nation to catch up to him.

"Yes?" England prompted.

"Have you seen America at all?"

"No, I haven't." England answered. "Not for a while at the very least. Why?"

"I need the dustpan and broom."

"What happened?" England asked, annoyed.

Spain shrugged. "Someone dropped their cup and it shattered when it hit that ground."

"Oh, the dustpan and broom are behind the door in the kitchen." England directed.

"Muchas gracias, amigo." Spain thanked as he turned to leave. "Actually... One more thing." Spain said as he turned back around.

England huffed. "What?"

"Where is the kitchen?"

'What a bloody idiot.' England thought. Though in reality, he said. "Follow me."

Spain happily obliged as they worked their way through the crowded hallways.

"Here we are." England announced when they passed through the threshold to the kitchen.

Spain quickly located the dustpan and broom, but before he left he gave something to England.

"Why the bloody hell are you giving me a playing card!?"

"Whoa, calm down Chico. I was going to ask if you could give this to America. I believe it's his."

"And why would I do that?"

Spain shrugged. "I don't know. But it gives you a reason to talk to him, right?" Spain smiled cheekily.

"Fine." England huffed. "I'll give it to him."

"Muy bueno." Spain smiled before heading out the door and making his way back to the stairs.

England glanced down at the card in his hand. 'No, it couldn't be."

"Spain!" The blonde nation called out to the former sea captain. Spain, unfortunately, couldn't hear him over the roar of the crowd. England darted after him. When England finally caught up to Spain, he was cleaning up the glass remains of the dropped cup.

A thought suddenly occurred to him. 'Wait a second. Why should I tell Spain?' England paused to ponder this new found thought. 'And now he noticed me. Great.'

"Hola England." Spain greeted, holding the dustpan with the glass in it in one hand and the broom in the other. "Do you need something, amigo?"

"U-umm." England stumbled over his words. 'Shit. Do I tell him what I know and risk getting laughed at or should I find someone who understands this sort of thing?

If England explains everything to Spain, turn to Chapter 8-Half-Truths. If Arthur goes to someone else who would understand his concerns, turn to Chapter 9.


	5. Brotherly Love

Italy lifted his arm toward the German and whispered.

"P-please stay."

Germany reached out his own hand, engulfing Italy’s smaller hand in his own before settling on the floor at the foot of the couch, still holding Italy’s slightly shaky hand. A few minutes of silence passed before Germany heard the soft pitter patter of small feet. Then before him knew it, he felt the weight of a small child on his lap. The child squirmed for a minute before settling down. Germany didn't even need to open his eyes to know that Kugelmugel was in his lap.

'He probably didn't want to battle through the crowd alone.' Germany thought to himself. 

A few minutes later Germany felt Kugelmugel's breathe evening out and he knew the young micronation was nodding off. It took only a few more minutes before Germany joined him, slipping into a peaceful sleep as well. Across the hall in the living room, Finland was practically on top of Sweden. You see the room was so crowded that the Nordics were only able to grab one couch...the love seat. Norway and Iceland were squished together on one of the couch cushions, Denmark took up the entire middle section. That left Sweden and Finland with the other cushion. 

At which point Sweden had picked up Finland who whimpered a few times in protest before sitting down and placing him on his lap. They fit but just barely. It wasn't long after the nordics got settled when Sealand decided he wanted to join the group. He was currently perched on the back of the love seat, leaning against Sweden's shoulders to maintain his balance. Ladonia was also a part of the pile because he had been trying to get passed the couch, but he almost got stepped on about 6 times in the span of less than two minutes. At which point Sweden had simply grabbed him and set him back down in Finland's lap. Ladonia had looked like he had wanted to protest, but he was also thankful to not have gonen stepped on. So he kept his mouth shut, his way of saying thank-you. It was maybe an hour or two later and Finland realized that he was super perched. He started to lift Ladonia off of him when Sweden asked.

"What 're y'u doing?"

Finland paused, stranding Ladonia in the air.

"Going to get punch!" Finland squeaked.

"No."

"No?" Finland squeaked again.

Sweden stared down at him, his face clearly saying. Did you not hear me? Finland gulped softly before placing Ladonia back on his lap. Sweden at the time had been thinking, 'I don't want you to get it, because I want to get it for you.' Sweden then put his plan into action. He reached up and shifted Sealand from the back of the couch to his shoulders. Then he wrapped one of his arms around Ladonia and the other around Finland. Finland squeaked at the sudden contact. Ladonia swore, rubbing his ear. Denmark felt the weight shift when Sweden stood up.

"Hey, where are you guys going?" He laughed while sprawling himself across the couch. Laying his head against Norway' lap and spreading his legs along the open cushion. Sweden gave him a backward glance before grunting "punch."

"Okay." He grinned.

Then he was unrooted from his spot by Norway. He flailed for a second before landing on the big soft rug.

"Why would you do that, Norway?" Denmark whined.

Sweden decided to tune out the rest of the conversation as he headed to the drink table with his precious cargo in hand I.e. His wife and two kids. Only when he made it to the drink table did Sweden shift where he had his family. First he handed Ladonia to a surprised Finland. Then he moved Sealand over so he was on his left shoulder. Then he grabbed Ladonia again and placed him on his right shoulder. He also continued to hold Finland in his left arm. Then using his right arm, Sweden began filling up glasses with punch and handing them to his family. 

Lastly after Sweden finished serving his family he got a glass of punch for himself. With everyone having a drink in their hand Sweden began weaving his way through the crowd heading to the stairs. He wanted to spend some quality time with his family away from the crowd. Sweden carefully maneuvered up the stairs as to not drop anyone or spill any of the punch. 

Once at the top of the steps Sweden took an immediate left and entered the room that he and Poland would be sharing later on. Though due to having Sealand and Ladonia on his shoulders, Sweden had to stoop in order not to slam his children's heads into the top of the doorway. Once inside the room, Sweden crossed the carpet, opened the French double doors to the balcony and plopped both Sealand and Ladonia outside on the extensive balcony. Before either could protest he shut the door and mouthed through the glass "go play." Sealand decided to make the best of it and he began to play on the thin layer of ice that covered most of the balcony. Ladonia on the other stood by the door, arms crossed over his chest, a frown etched into his face.

Sweden wasted no time in getting comfortable on the floor with Finland. He sat on the floor with his back against the wall and Finland in his lap, leaning against him. Finland then raised his glass and Sweden followed suit. They tapped their glasses together with a faint clink and then they began to down their drinks. Suddenly Sweden bucked, launching Finland off of him. Pain coursed through his veins, pooling at his head and lower back. After getting over the initial shock of getting thrown off Finland rushed over to Sweden's side.

"Sweden." He yelped, worried for the larger nation.

Finland was about to place a hand on Sweden to comfort him. But then without warning Finland crumpled whimpering. His head and lower back burning in agony. Ladonia was the first one to notice that something was wrong. He stared at his parent figures a moment before pointing it out to Sealand.

"Sealand..."

"..."

"Sealand..."

"..."

"Sealand!" He shouted. Sealand startled by the shout, slipped and fell on his bottom.

"Ouch...what?"

"Look."

That was the only answer that Ladonia gave him. Sealand got up and peeked through the glass.

"Gah. We have to help them." Sealand exclaimed when he saw their parents shaking in agonizing pain.

He tried the door, nothing happened. He tried it again, still nothing happened. At this point Sealand began rocking the handle up and down, trying to force his entry. Till Ladonia stopped him.

"Sealand, stop it. It's locked."

"Huh, but Dad would never lock us out. Not intentionally at least."

"He didn't." Ladonia confirmed.

"W-what do you mean?" Sealand asked, worry seeping into his voice.

"I watched Sweden, he didn't lock the door, he simply shut it."

"Then why is it locked?" Sealand huffed.

"When the door closed, it automatically locked itself." Ladonia explained.

"But how are we going to get in?" Sealand asked while pounding on the thick glass.

Ladonia crossed his arms. "Pounding on the glass isn't going to help anything. The glass is too thick to break."

Sealand turned to face Ladonia, hands resting on the glass.

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Sealand replied hotly.

Ladonia opened his mouth. "I..."

Ladonia's eyes went wide and his mouth gaped open. Like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"What?"

"..."

"WHAT?" Sealand pestered.

Then he saw it and his expression matched his brother's, eyes wide and mouth open.

 

 

Denmark leaned on the back of the couch and the armrest, being careful not to move. Norway had fallen asleep against him and Iceland had fallen asleep against Norway. Suddenly Denmark felt unrest in his gut. Something was wrong! Something to do with Sweden. Denmark wanted to move and check it out because more often than not his gut was correct. But the same time Denmark didn't want to ruin his moment with Norway. This was one of the few moments that Denmark could spend with Norway without Norway hurting or choking him and if his gut was wrong then he would be ruining his moment with Norway. But if his gut was right and Sweden was in danger then he needed to listen to it and help his brother before it was too late. If Denmark decides to disregard the feeling and enjoy his wonderful moment with Norway, turn to Chapter 10. If Denmark decides to investigate to make sure his brother is alright, turn to Chapter 11.


	6. Toys

"Luxembourg." Belgium said. "The worse thing we can do right now is let Spain go to sleep."

Luxembourg looked at his sister. "But what should we do? I can't carry them both and Spain isn't going to let go of Romano anytime soon."

Belgium thought for a moment, her finger tapping against her chin.

"I got it." She snapped her fingers.

"What?" Luxembourg asked, slightly startled by the sudden sound she made.

"Quickly grab Spain under his arm."

Luxembourg wanted to protest, but he knew it would be better and easier if he just listened to his sister.

"Now what?" He asked once they got Spain on his feet.

He was slowly swaying back and forth, threatening to tip over at any moment. Belgium yanked on Spain's arm, keeping him from leaning too far to the left and falling over.

"Now," She puffed. "We guide him back to the house."

Both Belgium and Luxembourg pulled Spain forward. He slowly followed, his joints stiff from the cold. The long crunch of the snow underneath their feet. The siblings tried to make quick work, but with each step, Spain got slower and slower. His body beginning to give out. He was dragging his feet, leaning heavily on Luxembourg. His hold on Romano still as tight as before. Belgium could feel the sweat dripping down her face as she struggled to keep Spain upright. She turned her head slightly to the left. She could see Luxembourg having a similar struggle, sweat glistening on his forehead. Luxembourg paused a moment to catch his breath. Spain and Romano were heavy.

Breathing hard Belgium said, "Don't stop...We're almost there."

Gulping in air, Belgium and Luxembourg continued to almost drag the other nations across the frozen ground. The group was about halfway to the house when they realized that they might not make it to the house in time. Luxembourg and Belgium weren't quite strong enough or fast enough for Belgium's liking. Then without warning Spain tripped on a piece of ice that was jutting out just a bit. Since Spain was bigger than both Belgium and Luxembourg. He dragged them down with him when he fell. 

Belgium was the first one to recover from the fall. She quickly stood and began harshly brushing the snow off of herself. Unfortunately, she wasn't quite fast enough and some of the snow had already melted, turning into water and soaking the front of her outfit. Belgium then looked down at the pile of boys to assess the damage. It didn't look good. Spain had a huge gash on his leg from the ice. Blood was sweeping out, dying the white snow a dark crimson red. Belgium then inspected the pile of boys more closely.

'Why hadn't Luxembourg gotten up yet?" She wondered, then she saw it.

Apparently, Spain had been leaning more on Luxembourg since when he fell, he fell almost directly on top of him. Luxembourg was trapped under Spain, the front of his body against the snowy ground and his arm caught painfully behind his back. Romano was still out cold, but it probably didn't help that he and Luxembourg had cocked heads and now he was under the almost the full weight of Spain. Belgium scrambled to her brother, shoving the snow away from his face so he could breathe. Once his face was exposed, Luxembourg sucked in some air and let out a blood-curdling scream before openly sobbing. Belgium startled by the sound had leapt backward and had fallen into a snow drift, now the back of her outfit was soaked too. After getting her feet underneath her, Belgium stood and brushed the snow off the best that she could. Then she hurried over to her brother once again, attempting to shift Spain just enough to get Luxembourg free. But Belgium wasn't quite strong enough to move Spain as much as she needed to. Instead, she simply relieved some of the pressure on Luxembourg, but she couldn't physically lift Spain by herself.

Luxembourg sighed in relief a moment before howling in pain when Spain slipped from Belgium's numb fingers and landed back on Luxembourg and his awkwardly twisted arm. Belgium could feel tears on the edge of her eyelids. She didn't know what to do anymore. She sat down shivering and defeated. Slowly she reached down and began stroking Luxembourg's head and hair, trying to distract him from his pain. She watched Spain's eyes sluggishly open and close. After watching him for a moment or two, Belgium withdrew her hand, put her head in her knees and sobbed.

'We're all going to die, aren't we?'

Belgium could barely hear Luxembourg' pained whimpers over her own sobbing. Belgium didn't know how long she sat there in the freezing snow, crying. But the next thing she knew was someone was tapping her shoulder. Belgium looked up sniffling.

"What?"

"I was taking a walk and I heard a scream so I came to investigate. Then I found you guys." Portugal informed her. "But now I need your help. I can carry Spain and Romano. But I can't carry Luxembourg, can you?"

Belgium stood, wiped her eyes, smiled and replied. "Yes, I can."

"Good."

Portugal bent down and grabbed Spain before slinging him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He then did the same thing to Romano. Belgium went to help Luxembourg up when she realized how dark it was. Night was falling fast and the only light that the group had was from the flashlight function on Portugal’s phone, which he had conveniently put in his front pocket. So he could light up the path before him as well leave his arms open to carry his brother and his brother's lover. Portugal turned and caught sight of Belgium helping Luxembourg up. She had his left arm over her shoulders and her right arm around his waist. They were both careful not to jostle his right arm, which they could both see it was clearly broken. It was limp and the bone was trying to poke through the skin.

"Come on," Portugal said. "We need to get back to the house."

Belgium nodded and they took off. Portugal at a brisk pace with Belgium and Luxembourg lagging behind slightly, both breathing hard trying to keep up with Portugal. The group was maybe five minutes away from the house when it began to snow, super hard.

"Portugal! Portugal wait!" Belgium called. "How can you see what's in front of you?"

Portugal stopped and turned. "I can't." He said looking at her dead on. "But if we stop now, that's a sure fire way to kill us."

"But if we start walking in circles, then we will also die."

"But if that happens then at least we know we tried instead of giving up." Portugal gave her a determined look.

Belgium had to give him points for not giving up into despair. Portugal then commanded her to come to him, she did. Portugal began to undo his belt. Belgium was about to ask him what he was doing when she got it. If Portugal connected his and Luxembourg's belts together then they couldn't get separated from each in this storm. Her theory was confirmed when Portugal slid one end of his belt through one of the spaces between Luxembourg' belt loops and belt. He then closed his belt and buckled it back up. Now the group was linked together. Way to go Portugal. Then the group was off again. Portugal going at a slightly slower pace so that Belgium and Luxembourg could keep up with him.

Portugal thought he saw a glint of light so he picked up the pace. Belgium and Luxembourg falling behind slightly, struggling to keep up with the Portuguese man. Suddenly the snow underneath Portugal’s foot crumbled, falling away down the edge of the cliff. Portugal was off balance now. The thing keeping him from teetering off the edge was Belgium and Luxembourg grounding their feet in the icy cold snow. Portugal stopped sliding, but Romano kept going due to the momentum and slid right off of Portugal’s shoulder. Fortunately, Portugal felt the shift and was able to lash out and latch onto Romano's wrist before he was able to fall into the dark abyss below. Though due to the sudden movement made by Portugal the group had begun slipping toward the edge again. Belgium did the only thing she could think of. She sat down, forcing everyone else to do the same that slowed them down, but it wasn't enough to stop them completely.

Slowly inch by inch Portugal was slipping over the edge. At first, he had one foot and his bottom on the ledge, the other foot hanging over nothing. His left hand clinging to Romano, his nails digging into Romano's wrist. Portugal's other arm hugged Spain's legs, keeping him in place. But as the group continued to slide, Portugal lost his grip with his foot and over the side it went. Then his bottom left the icy ground and he flipped sideways, the only thing keeping him there was the interlocked belts that he had set up earlier. Since Portugal was sideways, facing down on his stomach, he was folded in half at his waist. Looking down through the fog and snow, Portugal couldn't even see the ground below them.

Portugal tightened his grip around Spain and Romano. But Spain slid off his back where he had been balancing mere moments before. Portugal tightened his grip even farther, managing to snag Spain's leg wrapping on his fingernails. Portugal signed in relief before letting his head hang, allowing his bulky goggles to rest against his chin. Portugal waited for the rest of the group to fall off the edge and for them to fall to their deaths. It was maybe a minute or two later when Portugal realized that they had stopped moving. He glanced up wondering what had happened. Now back up to Belgium and Luxembourg. Belgium was terrified of what was going to happen. She could already play it in her mind's eye, she and Luxembourg would lose their grip and they would all tumble off the cliff to their deaths. Belgium trying to slow down their descend even further, released Luxembourg' arm she had hooked around her neck. With her now free hand, she began clawing at the icy ground, attempting to find some sort of handhold, like a plant or something.

Her hand only raked across the sharp shards of the ice, finding nothing and only resulting with Belgium getting her hand cut up. Then out of nowhere a ball came whizzing through the thick clumpy falling snow. Now, this rubber ball was attached to a stretchy string. You see this type is used to play catch by oneself. There is a wristband that encircles the user's wrist, then the baseball sized ball is attached to the wristband by a stretchy string and the user plays with it by throwing the ball and catching it when it returns via the stretchy string. 

Anyhow back to the story. The ball with the stretchy string came whizzing through the falling snow and wrapped itself around Belgium's wrist. Despite the pain in Belgium's hand from the numerous cuts she had gotten, she managed to get a grip on the ball before it before it began to unwind itself from her. The group's momentum was stopped for a brief moment before they slipped again for a terrifying minute. Then they stopped again. Both Belgium and Luxembourg sighed in relief. Any more sliding and Luxembourg would have fallen right off the edge of the cliff.

At that current moment he had one foot on the icy ground, the other over the edge along with half of his bottom. Then slowly inch by inch the group was pulled back onto the solid ground by the ball and its stretchy string. First Luxembourg was pulled back onto the ledge, but due to the snow pushing against Luxembourg when he got back on the ledge, Belgium's grip on him slipped and back to the edge he went. Fortunately, Belgium was able to grab him again before he fell off. 

Unfortunately, she was only able to grab his collar and she couldn't change her position since her other hand was preoccupied holding onto the ball. Luxembourg made the best of the situation and used his left arm to grip the front of his collar and move it away from his throat, thus relieving some of the pressure. Then the group was on the move again, Belgium and Luxembourg sliding through the snow, and Portugal with Spain and Romano almost to the ledge.

A few moments later Portugal joined the siblings in the snow, Spain and a Romano directly behind him. When all of them were on the ledge, they let the stretchy ball guide them to what they hoped would be the house. Since the group didn't want to stand for fear of simply just falling over again. They just let themselves get dragged across the snow and ice. Belgium was stuck on her back, her left hand outstretched over her head, the other stuck down by her waist clinging to Luxembourg' shirt collar. Snow parting when shoved out of the way by her head and hair, thoroughly soaking them through. Like Belgium, Luxembourg was also trapped on his back, but due to having Portugal attached to his belt he went through the snow at an angle. His right arm and shoulder pushing away the snow. He bit back his cries as his broken arm got jousted around. But there was nothing he could do about it. I mean he could use his left arm to move the other one, but if he moved it, then he would be allowing himself to be strangled due to his sister's grip on the back of his collar. So he laid there, suffering in silence.

Moving on to Portugal. Due to how the belts had gotten intertwined, Portugal was on his side. His back parting the snow when he went through. His left hand held onto Romano's wrist, dragging him through the ice and snow. His right held Spain's ankle. Speaking of Spain, he was sprawled out on his back. But since he was so tired, he simply let himself become limp. He didn't have the strength to do anything, except stay awake. He could feel the rocky snow underneath him. His right leg caught at an awkward angle, the gash in his leg turning the snow crimson in its wake. His arms hanging limply over his head.

Romano unlike everyone else was trapped on his stomach, his face turned to one side. Portugal’s nails digging into his wrist. Not that he noticed, he was still out cold from his dunk in the pond and the collision of his and Luxembourg's' head. His other arm hung limply by his side, the snow getting parted by his head and hair. And the snow kept falling down, slowly covering the group under a thick blanket of it. Farther and farther the group was dragged away from the cliff. Belgium hoped they were being pulled in the right direction, but with the snow and wind, it was impossible to tell. Slowly time ticked by and Belgium and Luxembourg waited to see who or what was at the other end. Suddenly they stopped and Belgium heard a shout, but that was the last thing she heard before she slipped into unconsciousness.

____________________________________________________________________________

Sealand stood at the edge of the porch, leaning on the rail, playing with his ball. His Uncle Denmark stood to the left of him, drinking a beer, and leaning backward on the rail. England stood on the other side of the porch, watching Sealand. His arms crossed and his frown ever present. Sealand may think of him as a jerk, but he did it because he just couldn't deal with the pain of losing him as well. Like how he had lost America. So England put up with all the hate, just so he could spend time with Sealand. England glanced to the right. It was starting to get dark out. They should probably head in soon.

"Hey, Sealand." England called across the porch.

"Yes Jerk?" Sealand asked without taking his eyes off his toy.

England huffed, but let the comment slide. "It's starting to get dark out. One last throw then we're heading in."

Sealand pouted but didn't argue. He was starting to shiver anyway.

"Uncle Denmark." Sealand cried. "Watch this!"

Denmark glanced at Sealand before turning around, his signature grin plastered across his face. He leaned against his elbows on the porch railing, his can of beer being held loosely by his fingertips.

"Yeah? Well, show me!" Denmark grinned.

Sealand wound his arm back. "Here we go." He cried, releasing the ball into the growing night.

Both watched in anticipation as the ball went further than before. Sealand felt the string attached to his wrist pull taut as it reached its limit. Sealand waited eagerly for his ball to return so he could catch it in style. Suddenly he flew forward over the railing. Instead of his ball coming back to him via the stretchy string attached to his wrist, he was going to his ball. Thankful though before Sealand was able to fly off into the night. Denmark was able to grab his ankle. 

Denmark who previously had been watching for the ball with Sealand, saw a blur of color in his peripheral when the young nation was launched forward. Then on pure instinct Denmark' hand had whipped out, dropping his half-full can of beer and managing to snatch Sealand's foot. His other hand tightly gripped the railing, keeping both of them grounded. His waist was caught against the railing forcing him to lean forward awkwardly. The balls of his feet straining to stay on the ground. England having witnessed the entire ordeal rushed over.

"Sealand!" He cried out, terrified for the younger nation. He pressed himself against the railing desperately attempting to grab Sealand's other foot, so that they weren't only relying on Denmark' grip. But alas Sealand was just out of reach for England. He stood helplessly at the rail, gawking at Sealand.

"Sealand!" Denmark called out. His usually grin nowhere to be seen. "Take it off!"

Sealand nodded before reaching up to undo the wrist part of his toy. Unfortunately, Sealand was just shy of reaching it. Since it was his right wrist that was stretched above his head, threatening to dislocate from his shoulder and his left ankle was being held onto by Denmark causing him to be at an angle.

"I can't!" He yelled back, his voice wavering.

'Ok.' Denmark breathed out. 'We can do this.'

"England." The island nation glanced toward the Scandinavian country. "I need you to grab my hand and help me pull Sealand to safety."

England nodded, before reaching for Denmark' wrist.

"NO! DON’T!" Denmark screeched, horrified.

Startled England retracted his hand. "BLOODY HELL." England exclaimed. "You told me to take a hold of your hand."

"Not that one." Denmark said through labored breathing. "If you mess with that hold, I might lose my grip on Sealand.

'Fine, now I get it.' England thought bitterly to himself.

But needless to say, England got on the other side of Denmark and grabbed his other hand, well more of pried it off the wooden railing. Once Denmark felt a firm grip on his wrist, he told England to pull like there was no tomorrow and he did just that. When they had almost gotten Sealand back to the safety of the porch, England realized something. Something so obvious that he wanted to smack himself and he nearly did. He had magic, DUH.

'Wow,' England thought. 'Why didn't I think of this before!? It would have made this so much easier.'

"Denmark, STOP." England commanded, his body ready for a break.

"What!? Why?" Denmark whined. "We almost have Sealand."

"Trust me." England replied hotly.

"Alright, fine."

England began mumbling incoherent words under his breath. Slowly a blue aura began to surround England, then just as slowly it began to creep toward Denmark. Denmark yelped when it came into contact, then he realized. 'Oh, it only tickles.' As the blue aura continued to surround Denmark, he began to giggle uncontrollably. Before long he was full belly laughing, it just tickled so much. To tune out Denmark' obnoxious laughter, England began muttering louder. Sealand met a similar feat to Denmark when the blue aura came to surround him. 

First, it started out as a giggle, then as the aura continued to surround him. It turned into a great big belly laugh. England still trying to concentrate, muttered his spell even louder. Then slowly but surely the group began moving backward. Soon Sealand was back over the railing, but England wanted to go the extra mile and get Sealand's toy back for him since Sealand loved it and it was a gift from his brother, Ladonia in a rare act of kindness. England also wanted to prove to Sealand that he wasn't as much as a jerk as Sealand made him out to be. Soon England tapped the back railing with his back. The group couldn't go any farther so England let the spell drop.

'The toy should be close enough now to untangle it from whatever it got caught on, right?' England thought.

As the blue aura faded, England crumbled. The spell had taken a lot out of him and now it was taking its toll. Sealand had dropped like a stone, ripping his foot out of Denmark' grasp. Denmark yelped when Sealand fell from him and his eyes widened as he saw the air get knocked out of Sealand.

'Shit. What do I do?' Denmark thought as he ran a gloved hand through his spiky hair. Denmark took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He needed to calm down. As he breathed out Denmark opened his eyes and glanced in Sealand's direction. Unfortunately, he had looked just past Sealand and saw something through the railing. He gasped then groaned. He didn't need any more stress at this moment.

He went up to the railing to take a closer look and he cursed. In the snow, turning blue was Belgium, Luxembourg, Portugal, Spain, and Romano. Denmark uncharacteristically pinched his nose and sighed. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. He could check on the Kirkland brothers first, but that would mean leaving Belgium's group in the snow. And Denmark didn't think that was a very good idea since they looked to be nearly frozen. On the other hand, if Denmark did check on Belgium's group first, then he would only be able to carry two inside at a time and once he got inside there would be no guarantee that there would be anywhere safe to put them. That and there was also Sealand who was beginning to shake and sneeze due to being outside in the freezing temperatures with just basically a t-shirt and shorts on. Denmark thought for a second longer. Then he snapped his fingers.

'Of course.' He thought. 'I could go into the house and round up some help.'

Denmark grinned happily for a moment before a depressing thought entered his head.

'That is of course if they believe me. The other nations would probably think that I was just trying to pull a prank.'

Denmark sighed unhappily at the thought. If Denmark decides to check on the Kirkland Brothers, turn to Chapter 12. If Denmark decides to help Belgium 's group turn to Chapter 13. If Denmark decides to get help from inside the house, turn to Chapter 14.


	7. Leadership Needed

Belgium continued to glance at her younger brother, wondering what they should do. Luxembourg shrugged.

“Why don’t we let Spain nod off?” Luxembourg suggested.

Belgium opened her mouth to reply. But Luxembourg held up his hand though. 

“Before you say anything. Remember this, Neither one of us is strong enough to carry both of them. Our best bet is to carry them separately to the house.”

“Alright.” Belgium sighed.

The siblings stood, waiting in silence and the lightly falling snow. Suddenly Belgium gasped.

Starling Luxembourg. “What!?”

“I just realized something.”

“What?” Luxembourg repeated.

“If we let Spain fall asleep, he might slip into a coma!”

Luxembourg swore. “Then what SHOULD we do!”

Belgium thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers saying “I got it.”

“What?” Luxembourg asked for the third time.

“Just trust me. Okay?” Belgium replied.

After a moment Luxembourg slowly nodded. “K.”

Belgium then got to work. Slowly she began to creep up behind Spain, being mindful of where she stepped as to not alert Spain to her presence. Luxembourg catching on to what she was doing, began rambling. Keeping Spain’s attention solely on him. Suddenly Belgium pounced. Her hands landing squarely on his shoulders and a shierk escaping her lips. Needless to say, Spain jumped. Startled, a strangled cry exited Spain’s mouth. And Romano slipped from his grasp, but before he could hit the ground. Belgium had grabbed him and began racing toward the house. Spain enraged that Romano was stolen away from him. Stood and began chasing Belgium. Luxembourg jogged behind Spain. Making sure that nothing happened to him.

‘I hope Belgium knows what she’s doing.’ He thought worriedly.

Luxembourg continued to trail Spain, till suddenly he tripped on a rock and fell. Luxembourg slowed to a stop and waited for Spain to start to get to up. He waited for a minute, then he realized that something was wrong. He hurried over to Spain. A frown etched into his face. Quickly he flipped Spain and swore at what he saw. Spain had a huge gash in his stomach from landing on a sharp piece of ice. He also had a cut over his left eyebrow from where his head collided with a rock. Luxembourg knew it was from a rock since a stone not too far from them had a splash of crimson red on it.

‘He must have hit his head pretty hard too.’ Luxembourg thought. ‘He’s out like a light.’

A groan from Spain yanked Luxembourg from his thoughts. He quickly ripped off his vest and placed it on the gash before applying some pressure, hoping to stop the bleeding. Luxembourg then grabbed at his shirt, successfully ripping it into crude bandages. Then quickly before Spain could lose any more blood, Luxembourg securely wrapped the strips of fabric around his torso and head. Luxembourg then scooped up Spain and began sprinting toward the house. Already though Luxembourg could feel the warm sticky blood tickle through the makeshift bandages, leaving a trail of red dots in the white snow. 

Worry clawed at Luxembourg. If only he had been paying more attention then, maybe, just maybe he could have caught Spain before he had fallen. Then they wouldn’t have been in this mess with Spain in a coma and Luxembourg having no idea when he would wake up, if at all. Luxembourg pushed all depressing thoughts from his head and focused solely on the task at hand. Within a few minutes, Luxembourg made it to the porch. Luxembourg sighed in relief.

‘Good.’ He thought. ‘Any longer and this might have turned out so much worse.’

Luxembourg went up to the door and kicked it a few times, hard. Hoping that someone had heard him and would open the door. You see with the way that Luxembourg was holding Spain, neither of his hands were free. One was around Spain’s torso, keeping him pressed up against his chest, putting pressure on Spain’s gash. His other hand was wrapped around Spain’s legs, holding them by his waist. Luxembourg kicked the door harshly a few more times.

“HEY, SOMEONE OPEN THE DOOR!” Luxembourg yelled through the thick wood.

“So impatient little lam-!?” France started while opening the front door.

He froze and visibly paled when he saw Luxembourg and Spain. The coloring draining from his face.

“Mon Dieu!” (My God!) He cried. 

Snapping into action when he saw the dark red blood trickling down Spain’s pant leg. Quickly he took ahold of the Spanish nation and brought him inside before laying him on the floor to access the damage. The first thing he noticed was the blood-soaked bandages. He swore in French, then ripped off his dark blue coat tail poncho thing that he wore all the time and bunched it up before applying it to the large gash.

“England! AMERICA!” France shrieked. Not two seconds later, England popped into the room.

“WHAT_THE_HELL_BLOODY_FROG!? WHAT DO YOU NEED THAT WARRANTS SCREECHING AND SCREAMING!?” England screamed. 

France let it slide that he was just called a bloody frog. Right now he had more pressing matters. He rolled his gorgeously blue eyes before demanding to know where the infirmary was.

England snorted. “Why would you need to know? Wait, let me guess. On-!?”

“England!” France shrieked again, panic filling his voice. “DO YOU NOT SEE Spain!?”

Nope, until that moment. England had been solely focused on France. Once he saw Spain and the blood soaking through France’ coat. He went deathly pale before pointing and stammering. 

“Third d-door on th-the r-r-right.”

France then scanned the crowd, looking for people he knew would help. His blue eyes locked onto someone’s green ones.

“Switzerland.” France took charge. “Get ready to grab his legs.”

Switzerland opened his mouth to argue but France cut him off before he could even start.

“There’s no time. Just get ready.”

Switzerland humped. But went over, getting ready to help. Then France spotted distinctive red hair.

“Northern Ireland.” He all but screamed. “You’re going to carry his torso and take the brunt of the weight.”

He nodded, saying nothing and getting into position. France then spied a green bow.

“Belgium.” The nation of love called out. “I need you to support his head and neck. Hurry! We are running out of time.”

Belgium hurried over and knelt down.

“On the count of three you guys lift.” France glanced at each one of his companions and got a nod from each. He continued. “…One…Two…THREE!”

On cue, the group lifted up. Belgium supporting Spain’s head and neck. Northern Ireland supporting Spain’s torso as well as the pressure that France was applying to stop the bleeding. And Switzerland was carrying Spain’s legs. Quickly the group went down the hallway that England had pointed out earlier. It took the group a minute to figure out the best way to get through the door, but they figured it out. Belgium had to go through the door first, backward. France and N. Ireland could fit through with Spain, but just barely. 

With one pushing down on the Spaniard and the other holding him up on the other side. Switzerland was the last one to make it through the third door on the right. One arm wrapped around Spain’s legs, holding them by his waist. The other was used to carry his precious shotgun. Once the group was through the door they set Spain down on the first bed they saw. After Switzerland had released the Spanish nation’s legs. He took a moment to look at the room around them. The first thing he noticed was the rows of beds on either side of the doorway that had about ten beds to each row.

‘All the beds look identical.’ Switzerland noted.

White wireframes, white sheets over bulky mattresses and a blanket neatly folded at the foot of each bed. Switzerland then noticed the two white cabinets on either side of the giant double silver sink. The only reason he saw them at all was because of the silver sink. The cabinets blended almost perfectly with the white walls and the white tile floor. Switzerland was suddenly brought back to the situation at hand by Belgium asking.

“So…What do we do now!?” Worry and panic laced her voice.

Switzerland watched as France raised his eyes to meet hers. 

“I…I don’t know.” 

He lowered his head in shame. But still applied pressure to the wound.  
Switzerland rolled his eyes as Belgium clamped her hands over her mouth, silencing her own cries.

“You need to cauterize the wound.”

Everyone stopped and stared at Switzerland. Surprised faces all around. They had forgotten that he was even there since he hadn’t spoken till then.

Switzerland humped. “You want to save him, don’t you?”

“Yes, but…” France started.

“But you don’t know how to cauterize a wound?” Switzerland asked, rolling his eyes once again.

France nodded weakly. Switzerland huffed once more before taking charge. “Belgium go to the cabinet and find a pair of scissors and a dull blade or something we can heat up that’s metal.”

Switzerland dismissed her by pointing to the cabinets. Then he turned his attention toward France. 

“Keep applying pressure. We can’t afford a bleed out.”

Switzerland then turned toward Northern Ireland. “Find matches or something so that we can heat up the blade.”

“Already got you covered.” Came the reply.

“Alright then, help Belgium.”

The redhead nodded before heading to the cabinet area as well.

“Umm…Switzerland?” Said nation looked over to the nation of love, unimpressed.

“What?” He replied crudely.

“W-why hasn’t Spain’s n-nation healing kicked in yet?”

“It has.” Was Switzerland’s clipped reply.

“B-but then he should already be healed, oui?” France whimpered.

Switzerland rolled his eyes. “Did you NOT notice the ice clinging to his hair and his soaked clothes?”

“…No…I was too distracted by the BLOOD.”

Switzerland resisted the urge to shot France right there and then.

‘Cool it, Switzerland. Spain’s best bet is all of us working together.’ Switzerland sighed. “Nation healing deals with internal injuries first, then works outward. And before you ask.” 

Switzerland cut France off when he opened his mouth to ask another question. “Right now Spain’s core is lower than it should be, so his nation healing is trying to warm him up. Then it will work on his external injuries.”

France nodded, now understanding the concept but still worried for his friend. They wouldn’t be the Bad Touch Trio without Spain.

Suddenly Northern Ireland cried out. “HEY, I found a dull metal blade.” And Belgium added. “And I found the scissors you wanted.”

“Good…Now get over HERE!” Switzerland barked.

Both compiled and sprinted back to the bed that was farthest away from the cabinets.

“France,” Switzerland continued. “Remove the coat.”

“B-but!?” France stammered. “Y-you sai-!?”

DO AS I SAY OR RISK LOSING HIM!” Switzerland roared.

France gulped, then did as asked. The Swiss then turned toward the red head and the green bowed girl.

“Northern Ireland, Heat up the blade till it’s scorching hot.”

The northern ireland nodded before clamping his hands around the blade and muttering an incantation under his breath.

“Belgium,” The Swiss continued. “Cut away at the bandages till we have a clear view of the wound.”

“Right!” Belgium replied before setting to work. 

France stood back awkwardly, holding his bloodied poncho and watching the scene unfold itself before his very eyes. 

“Done.” Belgium huffed as she cut the last of the crud bandages away. 

“Good. You better have the blade heated up.” Switzerland turned his attention toward Northern Ireland. He nodded holding up the glowing orange blade. 

“Now put the blade on the gash, holding i-FLAT SIDE DOWN”. Switzerland shrieked as Northern Ireland was just about to place the sharper edge of the knife on Spain. He quickly adjusted when he heard Switzerland’s outburst. 

“Then hold it there a few seconds before moving it to the next part of the wound.” Switzerland continued. 

Northern Ireland did exactly as he was told and soon the wound was cauterized. 

“Now what?” France asked. 

Switzerland humped. ‘Seriously, Do these guys know nothing about treating an injured person?’ He huffed. “First we clean up all the blood off Spain and clean out the cut above Spain’s left eye. Next we wrap both wounds with gauze and bandages.”

As Switzerland continued to explain. Both Belgium and Northern Ireland followed his instructions and soon Spain was cleaned and bandaged. 

“Next,” Switzerland continued. “Does anyone know where Spain's room is?”

Caught off guard by the question, the group stared blankly at Switzerland a moment before answering. Northern Ireland shook his head and shrugged. Belgium said no, shaking her head. But France, still holding his bloody piece of clothing, nodded weakly and said “Oui. (Yes.)”

“Fine, go to Spain's room and bring back some pjs. Long sleeve ones.”

France nodded before heading toward the door.

“Wait.” 

He stopped and looked back over his shoulder. 

“You might want to leave your jacket here.” Belgium stated. You don't want to draw attention to yourself right now.”

“Why not?” France pouted. “I am gorgeous, non?”

“Yes…” She said hesitantly. “But you need to get the clothes as fast as possible for Spain… and the blood on the jacket WILL attract attention.” 

France sighed. He knew she was right. 

“Fine.” He muttered, letting his navy blue poncho fall to the floor. 

Then he continued his way out of the room. As soon as the door clicked closed behind France, Northern Ireland released a sigh, letting his legs buckle slightly and falling somewhat gracefully on his bottom. One leg straight, the other bent. Arms behind him on the floor, holding up his staggering figure. Head bowed forward slightly. All adrenaline that had been previously in his system was fading away rapidly. 

Then not a moment later, Belgium joined him on the ground. Legs crossed in a loose criss-cross applesauce pose. Hands behind her, and elbows locked, keeping her from laying on the ground. All adrenaline draining from her system. Switzerland continued to stay standing, one hand cradling his ever present shotgun, the other arm hung limply by his side. The trio waited in dead silence. The only sound echoing throughout the room was Northern Ireland’ and Belgium’s heavy breathing as their bodies tried to compensate for the fading adrenaline. The trio waited in silence, till Belgium broke it. 

“So…” Belgium asked still breathing heavily. “How do know so much about treating gashes, Switzerland?”

Switzerland scuffed before answering. “One doesn't learn how to shoot a gun without also learning how to treat bullet wounds.” 

“Oh.” Belgium panted. 

The trio waited maybe 10 minutes in silence. Then the Frenchman returned with the pjs in hand. 

“Got them.” He said simply, as he held them up for the world to see. The top consisted of a long-sleeve white shirt and the bottoms were blue checkered flannel pants. 

“Good.” Switzerland replied. “Now Northern Ireland…”

“I want you to change Spain.” Switzerland barked. 

Northern Ireland let out a why me groan from his position on the floor. 

Switzerland huffed. “Because,” he explained. “Belgium is a girl and changing the other gender is inappropriate and there is no way that, that pervert.” He jabbed his thumb at France. “Is getting anywhere near someone when they are changing and or getting changed.”

France nearly snapped at Switzerland. Demanding why he couldn’t help with changing Spain. Then he realised. ‘This is Switzerland we are talking about, one doesn’t ever want to get on his bad side.’ 

Northern Ireland sighed before pulling himself off of the ground and grabbing the clothes from France who had started to complain about the fact that he couldn’t even help his best friend by changing him. One well placed glare from Switzerland shut him right up. Northern Ireland had just started to take Spain’s shirt off when he glanced at the nations watching him expectantly. He gave them an annoyed look of do you mind!? With a huff accompanying it. The two nations spun around, turning their backs to him. Embarrassed that they had gotten caught staring. 

Switzerland had already turned his back before this point, so he missed the entire exchange. Northern Ireland then continued with changing the spaniard. The only sounds in the room was the harsh breathing of Northern Ireland, the occasional grunt, and the wire frame bed squeaking. When the trio was told that they could turn around again, they saw that Northern Ireland had not only changed Spain, but had also wrapped him in the blanket that had previously been at the foot of the bed and tuck him under the covers. 

“Good work.” 

Switzerland stated before heading out the dooring. Clearly stating that their work there was done. Northern Ireland followed a moment later. France was about to follow suit when he noticed Belgium hadn’t moved toward the door at all. 

“Everything alright?” He asked. 

Belgium nodded, but her body language said otherwise. “I just want to stay with him for a while.” 

She moved closer to the nation laying on the bed. France nodded. He could respect that. France was just about to leave when he remembered something. 

“Oh, yes.” France started, turning to face her. “Luxembourg was looking for you. It seemed kind of urgent. I just thought you should know.” 

Belgium nodded in thanks before returning her attention toward Spain. France simply shrugged and left. If Belgium decides to stay with Spain, turn to Chapter 15. If Belgium decides to look for her little brother, turn to Chapter 16.


	8. Half Truths

“Si?” Spain prompted when England had remained silent. 

“Ummm…” England stammered. 

Seeing England hesitant again, Spain continued. “Tell you what. Let me just throw this away. And then we can talk privately, Si?” He said gesturing to the dust pan filled with glass shards. 

England nodded numbly and followed Spain as he made his way back to the kitchen. He watched Spain put the glass pieces in the trash can beneath the sink and placed the dustpan and broom in their proper spot behind the door. Spain turned to face England. 

“Alright amigo (friend). We can talk upstairs. Vamos (Let’s go).” 

England simply nodded and continued to follow the Spaniard. Trying to work out in his head how he was going to explain the card to his fellow nation. In England’s opinion, they got to the upstairs bedroom way too fast. He still had no idea what to tell Spain. He sighed before following Spain into the room, holding the four of hearts tightly in his fist. Spain sat down on one of the two beds and gestured for England to sit on the other one. The room was a simple square with pale blue walls and ceiling. Two dark wooden bed frames stood on either side of the door, supporting two bulky mattresses. Cream colored comforters were folded at the foot of the beds over burgundy sheets and pillows encased in burgundy pillowcases laid at the head of the beds. Two wooden nightstands stood on the outside side of the beds and a pair of identical black chest of drawers were placed by the wall, opposite the door. England sat down heavily, the sheets crinkling under the added weight. 

“So,” Spain prompted. 

He sat relaxed on the bed opposite England, One foot tucked under his other knee, leg dangling down toward the floor. Arms braced behind him, elbows locked and hands sinking down into the mattress. 

“What did you need to tell me?” 

England curled in slightly on himself. Shoulders hunched and ankles crossed close to the floor. He took a deep breath, building up his courage before he spoke. 

“Ok, this may sound crazy.” England started. “But you need to hear me out.” England urged and Spain nodded, an easy going smile dancing across his lips. 

England sighed before continuing. “Did you notice how the figure on the card looks suspiciously like Prussia?” England asked while presenting the playing card. Spain nodded again. 

“Si, I mean other than the outfit, it looks exactly like him.” 

“W-well the thing is,” England stumbled over his words as he stole a glance toward Spain. 

He saw confusion and worry clouding Spain’s eyes even as his smile still played across his lips, though not as bright as before. England swallowed thickly and chuckled humorlessly under his breath. 

‘Maybe I shouldn’t tell him. Not only would he probably not believe me, but I don’t think even if he did believe half of what I say, he would be able to sleep at night.’ 

England sighed before returning his attention toward Spain. ‘I must have spaced out a minute,’ England realized when he saw Spain’s face, eyes furrowed and mouth in a tiny frown, silently asking if he was alright.

“I’m fine.” He replied, brushing off Spain’s concern with a wave of his hand. “I just wanted to say that yes the card may look like Prussia was put on it, but that’s simply a coincidence and I wanted to thank you for returning the card. It's mine actually.” ‘A little white lie never hurt anyone.’ England sighed. 

England stole another glance at Spain, relief flooding his features. 

“No problemo.” He smiled. “Though is that a special card?” 

England almost involuntarily jerked backward, shocked. He wasn’t prepared to have Spain this perspective. What if he caught him in his white lie? 

“Special?” England echoed, foregning ignorance. 

“Si, like magical? You said it was your card, no?” 

The Englishmen scanned the Spaniard's eyes. There was no hint of mockery or doubt.

“Yes, yes it is.” 

“Would you mind showing me?” The Spaniard wondered. 

“No, I don’t mind.” England sighed in relief. ‘Well, it looks like he at least tolerates magic, But I can’t go back on my lie. Spain would try to save him and that would go south almost immediately.’ 

“Do you need anything?” 

“Yes, actually I need a playing board.”   
Spain nodded before getting up and stretching, popping his back in the process. 

“I’ll get one.” Spain offered before proceeding to the door. 

England nodded, dismissing the pirate nation. Spain headed down the wooden steps on autopilot, his mind lost in a flurry of questions. Spain knew England was hiding something. Something that had to do with the card that he and France had found. Just take a look at how he acted; all nervous and sweaty. Spain also figured it had something to do with magic. First off he was a member of the Magic Trio and his reaction to the card. 

Most people don’t react that way to a normal card. Spain caught a glimpse of the expression just before he disappeared into the sea of nations. One way to find out about it would be to indirectly ask England because clearly, he was going to say something important before he caught himself. His whole demeanor changed. Spain sighed, before focusing on the task on hand. 

“...Where are the board games located? WOW, Trabajo brillante España (Brilliant job Spain). You just offered to get a game, even though you have no idea where they are and going back to England would defeat the purpose of going to get in the first place.” 

Spain sighed uncharacteristically, hot air escaping his mouth. 

‘Of course I could find America and ask him.’ Spain perked at the thought before making his way through the crowd, goal clear in mind.  
____________________________________________________________________________ 

Prussia tried not to scream as he was handed over to a pale, slender hand, the silver fog still as thick as ever. Prussia did scream when the owner of the pale hand scurried around, strong grip on him and crushing his legs in the process, but it didn’t appear that anyone could hear him. Prussia tried not to barf on his wild ride with the pale hand. The worst part was the swinging. The hand tightened around as he swung in big arching semi-circles. Prussia breathed out a sigh of relief the moment the movement had finally stopped. A growl resounded in the back of his throat. Yes, the movement had stopped. But he had no way to escape the hand. And it didn’t help having the cold metal chains binding him. 

Two around his ankles, two on his wrists, keeping them bound behind his back. A cold metal collar was encircled around his throat and connected to his handcuffs through a thick, heavy chain. Prussia struggled to breathe as the thing caught between his back and the back of his shirt shifted, causing the front of his shirt collar to dig into the tender skin just below the iron collar. Prussia gasped and gagged as his body tried to get enough oxygen and compensate for the mostly blocked windpipe. Prussia nearly succeeded in keeping his lunch down when he was rushed forward as if being offered, still encased in the pale hand’s slender fingers and up came his lunch, burning his syscoughate and lips. It landed on the front of his outfit, a green chunky mess oozing down the fabric.

‘Ok,’ Prussia thought. ‘That was gross, even for the awesome me.’ 

He turned his head and tried to wipe his lips on his clothed shoulder. He couldn’t quite reach. 

‘Fine.’ He huffed. ‘I’ll figure out another way.’ 

And with that he began to squirm, hoping to dislodge the hold on him. Unfortunately, his squirming only caused the hand to tighten its grip, nearly choking the life out of the Prussian. Prussia stilled as his oxygen supply was cut off and he passed out.   
____________________________________________________________________________

Spain rubbed his temple in frustration. He just spent 15 minutes searching for a nation that apparently didn’t want to be found and better yet, no one seemed to know where he was either. 

‘Maybe I should just ask around to see if anyone knows where the board games are located.’ 

With a plan firmly in place, Spain set off, weaving through the crowd again. A flash of gold caught his attention. ‘No, it couldn’t be.’ 

“America.” The Spaniard yelled, hoping to grab the young nation’s attention. “America!” 

If the boy heard him, he paid no mind. Spain shoved his way through the sea of people, keeping the gold-haired boy in his sight, ignoring the glares he reviceced as he pushed nations out of his way. At one point he managed to clamp his hand around the young nation’s bony shoulder before spinning him around and latching on, hands on the boy’s biceps. 

“America! Could you not hear me!? I called your name several times.” The Spaniard exclaimed. 

The boy blinked at him, a deer in the headlights type of look. The boy shook his head, “I’m sorry to disappoint,” The boy whispered, Spain straining to hear him. “But I’m Canada. America’s brother.” 

Spain stared at the boy, finally taking in the details. Canada’s hair was slightly longer with a curl instead of a cowlick. His eyes were more purple than his brother’s sky blue eyes. Even their outfits were different. Canada wore a thick winter coat with a hood with brown mittens verse America, who wore a bomber jacket and black gloves. But probably the biggest difference was Canada hugging a polar bear to his chest. America didn’t even own a polar bear. Spain coughed, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. 

“Lo siento (I’m sorry).” He apologized as he took his hands off the younger boy. “I thought you were America. I’ve been trying to find him for the past 20 minutes. Do you by chance know where he?” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where he is. But is it something I can help you with?” 

“Maybe. Do you know where America keeps his boardgames?” 

Canada’s eyes lit up. “I know where they are. Follow me.” 

With that, Canada spun on his heel and headed toward the front door. Seriously, the kid seemed to melt into the crowd. Spain, on the other hand, had to dodge people left and right to keep up with America’s brother, still bumping into a few people and getting glared at, which he ignored. The teen seemed to materialize just in front of the front door.

“This way.” He pointed to the left. Spain gulped down some air before following, hey trying to squeeze through a crowded room isn’t easy. The pair came across a wooden white painted door. 

“In here.” Canada whispered as he opened the door. Hats, and shoes, and coats spilled out, covering the entrance hall floor. Spain stared, confused. “...What?” 

“They’re in the back on a shelf. Which one do you want?” 

Spain peeked inside the closet, catching a glimpse of colorful packaging in the back corner. He said the first game he saw. 

“How about chess?” 

Canada nodded and disappeared into the closet, returning a moment later with ruffled hair, a grin, a marble chess board, and drawstring pouch on top of the board. 

“Here.” He grinned, slightly out of breathe. “It was the easiest one to get to...so please be careful with it.” 

Spain grinned back. “No problemo. Muchas gracias (Much thanks), Canada.” He said as he was given the board and small sack. 

“Adios amigo (Goodbye friend).” 

Spain said over his shoulder as he turned to face the crowd again. 

“Bye Spain.” Canada whispered, a small smile still gracing his lips. It wasn’t often that he got mistaken for America from behind, normally people would be looking at his face and still mistake for his louder brother...if they noticed him at all. But Spain apologized and still saw him AND even called him by the correct name when he left. Probably the only reason he called Canada America was because he had been looking for America and saw golden blonde hair that both brothers possessed and thought he was America. 

Canada could forgive him, he did call him his actual name and saw him enough to follow him through the crowd. Canada continued to smile, a warm feeling bubbling in his chest. Spain carefully trended through the crowd, board gripped tightly in his hands, sack of marble chess pieces balanced precariously on top. He slowly worked his way through, careful not to bump into anyone and upset the balance he had. Spain returned to the room nearly half an hour later to an even grumpier England, arms crossed, shoulders hunched and a scowl ingrained into his face. 

He scowled. “What took you so long?” 

“Lo siento (I’m sorry),” Spain shrugged. “I thought I knew where the board games were located, but I didn’t. But then Canada helped me.” 

“Who?” England cocked an eyebrow in confusion. 

“Canada.” Spain replied. 

“Who?” 

“America’s brother.” Spain replied, smile starting to dim. 

“America has a brother?” 

“Si (Yes),” Spain said, nearly exasperated. “France’ colony that fought with YOU in the American revolution!” 

“France had a colony? And what do you mean ‘fought with me’, I fought alone against America and I lost him.” England spoke, his tone filling with anger. 

‘Unbelievable.’ Spain thought. ‘One of the nations that helped raised him doesn’t even remember that he exists.’ 

Spain sighed. ‘Well, this is getting us nowhere.’ 

“Lo siento (I’m sorry), I must have gotten my wars mixed up. We have fought many over the years. I didn’t mean to bring back painful memories.” 

England sighed, shoulders slumping. “It’s alright. You made a mistake, we all make mistakes at some point.” 

“So...Are you still willing to show me the card?” Spain asked, a touch of nervousness in his voice. 

England sighed once again. “I don’t see why not. Bring the board over here.” 

Spain was just about to make his way over to England when there was a some-frantic knock on the door. Both males froze, glancing at each other, before returning their gaze to the white painted door. 

“Come in.” England called, voice sounding slightly more refined and grumpy.

The door squeaked open and France stuck his head in, his somewhat crazed eyes kept shifting from Spain to England before settling on the Spanish nation. His shoulder length blonde hair looked somewhat fizzy, as if long fingers had gone through it. 

“Spain,” France started, voice higher in pitch than normal. “I need you to come with me. It’s very important!” 

Spain frowned, glancing between the two blonde nations. If he left now he might not get another chance to find out about the card. But France had never looked that frazzled before, so whatever it was he needed, it was important. If Spain decides not to pass up the chance to learn about the card, turn to Chapter 17. If Spain goes with France to see what is wrong, turn to Chapter 18.


	9. Found?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, for the short chapter.

“No, sorry. I don’t need anything. I was simply looking for someone and I thought to look for them in their room.” England said, cheeks still slightly flushed from going after Spain. 

“Ah, I see.” Spain said, nodding.

If England was looking for someone in their room, then he would have to climb the stairs to the second floor where the guest bedrooms were located. 

“Ah, well buena suerte (good luck).” Spain grinned as he stepped around England to throw away the glass shards. 

England signed, shoulders slumping in relief. Too close for comfort. Before continuing up the steps. Since he was already heading that way, he might as well check their rooms. England wandered the hallways, walking purposefully so it looked like he knew where he was going. He kept looking at the closed doors, looking at the flags painted on each one, showing where each nation slept like a nameplate. 

But he had yet to see the two he was looking for. America hadn’t put them in any logical order. They were simply scattered, they weren’t categorized by geography or family. They were just randomly placed, no rhyme or reason to the room placement or roommates. England should know he was stuck with Estonia. Don’t get him wrong, he had nothing against the Baltic State, he just didn’t know him very well. 

England continued down the hallway, looking at each door. But he had yet to see the one he needed. England made it to the end of the hallway with no luck. He signed before turning to the left and continuing. The hall took a sharp left, no doors were in that particular stretch of hallway, but the entire right side was floor to ceiling windows, allowing the viewer to see the vast pine-tree forest that stood behind the house. Currently, the pine forest sparkled with long cascading icicles clinging to the pine-tree branches. Glittering snow, nearly gleaming as it covered the pine-needle infected ground and the top part of the tree branches. 

England stopped and stared a moment, a small smile spreading across his lips as he was caught in nature’s lure. England was harshly shoved back into reality by a door slamming shut, rattling the brass knob and sending vibrations through the walls. England’s scowl easily slipped back into place. He huffed and continued down the hall. Soon the hallway took another sharp left and England followed, entering a corridor that had painted doors on both sides every few feet. England breathed out slowly before continuing. 

Just because he found their rooms. There would be no guarantee that they would be in them. Eventually, he caught sight of one of the doors he needed. He promptly marched up to the door and knocked loudly, knuckles rapping soundly against the painted wood. It took a moment, but then the door was opened by a young man, no taller than England. He had the same spiky hair as Denmark, though whereas Denmark had blonde hair this boy’s was a dark bruent. Half silver moon glasses covered his eyes. He wore a plain button-down shirt and he held a baby elephant. 

“Aw, England.” The boy greeted. “Is there something I can help you with?” 

England nodded. “Why yes there is. By chance is Romania in there with you?”

Thailand gently shook his head, smile still held on his face. “Sorry, he left a little while ago.” 

England promoted. “Do you know where?” A note of desperation interlaced with his vocals. 

Thailand once again shook his head softly. “I’m sorry, but I do not. Can I help you with anything else, England?” 

England sighed before replying. “No, thank-you. That’s all I needed. Thank you for your help.” 

Thailand nodded. “You’re welcome.”

“Now I hate to cut this short, but I have some business I must attend to. Have a good day, Thailand.” 

Thailand nodded once more before replying. “And to you as well, England.” He then quietly shut the bedroom door. 

England sighed once again, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

‘Well, that could have gone better.’ He thought somewhat bitterly.

He deflated slightly before simply turning and continuing down the corridor, boots hardly making a sound on the honey-colored wood floor. England had just passed a door on the right when he thought he heard something. England almost dismissed it, opting instead to keep walking when he heard it again. Now he knew it wasn’t a figmative of his imagination. He paused, brow scrunching as he attempted to identify the sound. 

It almost sounded like a ball bouncing off a window multiple times. England could just make out muffled shouting, high pitched voices leaking through the cracks in the wood. He paused at one of the doors near the threshold to the stairs. The dull roar of the crowd nearly drowning out the voices. England knocked loudly, gloved hand rapping soundly against the navy blue and gold painted wood. 

“Hello?” England called, not sure if he could be heard or not. 

“Help!” Cut through the rest of the noise crowding the hallway, shrill and panicked.

“Alright, I’m coming.” England instantly replied, fear trickling into the sounds. He grabbed the brass knob and jerked it to the right, unlatching the door from the frame. The door opened only a crack before slamming into something solid, bouncing back and rattling upon settling back into its frame. 

England blinked. ‘What?’ He tried again, but it only yielded the same result. 

England sighed and rubbed his temple with his middle and pointer fingers. 

‘Well, this is bothersome.’ England grumbled. ‘Now what?’ 

Tiny shrill voices, indistinguishable leaked through the door, adding to England’s growing headache. He didn’t know what he should do. Should he continue to try to force his entry or should he grab someone else to help him break down the door? If England forces his entry, turn to Chapter 19. If England goes to find someone else to help him break down the door, turn to Chapter 20.


End file.
